Wings of Silk
by SkullOfRoses
Summary: Hermione has a voice hidden inside of her and Severus dances in the shadows. A dangerous obsession is born between a Butterfly and a Songbird. Canon divergence starting from Fourth year. Hermione is eighteen. SSHG.
1. Chapter 1

It all started at the Yule Ball. Victor had left for a moment in search of a drink, and Hermione felt a blush of joy settle over her features. It wasn't just the surrounding decoration that made her feel as if she was floating.

She gasped and put a hand to her forehead. Was this all a dream? Perhaps it was; perhaps she would awake any moment now and be ugly and detested for her intelligence once more. She would enjoy this while it lasted.

Turning, she was surprised to find a dark figure standing before her. Professor Snape was gazing at her with dark eyes, and he was rather striking against the icy background. He was like a walking shadow. His cheeks were flushed (how peculiar!) and his hand was extended.

"S-sir?" She asked nervously, uncertain. "What..."

Her hand was snatched, and she was pulled from the room.

No one noticed, and soon she was standing outside in the snow amongst a series of carriages. She had heard some of the other (daring) girls boasting that they were perfect for more than just kissing, and Hermione blushed at such a risqué thought.

The windows were tinted with frost and Hermione saw her face warped by ice before the professor grabbed both her hands. Her eyes searched his, frightened, unsure, curious. Very slowly, he began to dance. It started as simple swaying, evolved into proper movement and ended in a simple but elegant waltz.

Hermione was confused but who was she to break the hold? This was a magical night and this was an otherworldly moment. Like the first time she had seen a unicorn face to face, having tagged along with Hagrid into the forbidden forest when some other students had made her cry. The great beast had smelled of earth, but in a pleasant way like the deep blue sky and fragrant flowers and salty ocean water.

She was wearing heels and they clicked against the snow as it melted into a fog and surrounded them in a thin haze of cold, white smoke. Snape dipped her, and that was the end.

Hair tumbling around her shoulders and lips far too close to his to be innocent, she breathed, _"why?"_

Her breath mixed with his, and he dropped her as if burnt. She fell to the ground painfully hard. His eyes were wild like an animal's and he was panting like a wolf staring down prey. His own hair was tousled, and his hand was icy cold when it touched her cheek.

His lips brushed against hers and her eyelashes fluttered closed with surprise. A shock coursed through her whole body like a lightning bolt, and when she opened her eyes he was gone and she was weeping. Upon finding his date sprawled in the snow crying, Viktor expressed concern.

"Hermy-own-ninny? Vat 'as happened?"

"Oh Victor," she whispered, grabbing him in a hug so desperate he spilled the drinks. "I haven't the faintest."

* * *

Severus Snape was lying on his bed, everything in disarray. Everything (His hair, his features, the room) was a mess. He had destroyed it not just with magic but his own furious fists. What a drunken fool he had been! Too much worry the night before had led to too much alcohol, which had led to him- his pillow burst into feathers and he slammed his hands onto his face.

 _"Damn it all to this hell and beyond,"_ he snarled.

What was he supposed to do? Miss Granger was clever enough; she would no doubt be aching to ask him why, why he had danced with her and why he had kissed her like she mattered more than anything. When was the last time he had truly felt such fire when he touched anyone?

He had bedded plenty of women, most of them after Lilly's demise, in an effort to cleanse himself of misery. But it only led to him buttoning up his collar and telling the girl that he never wanted to see them again. She usually agreed wholeheartedly.

The bottle of brandy he had been nursing was flung across the room and it shattered into a million shards of glass and liquid. He had shown Hermione a magic he did not like to speak about, had invited her to join in! Lust never led to anything except for disgust.

The mark on his arm was a deep inky black, and he knew of wizards and monsters who had seen their own tattoos flourish as well. A pocket knife materialized in his hand and he slashed at his most horrifying scar with the tip of the blade.

Severus bled crimson and the blood fell languidly onto the cream colored bed sheets, staining. The knife embedded itself in the wall with a loud thump.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione leaned against the desk and gazed up at the Professor, a delicate blush decorating her china doll cheeks. Her arms were folded neatly.

For a long moment Snape said nothing, as if lost in thought. He then took fifteen points off Gryffindor for no reason and Ron threw a fuss. Ignoring it, Snape stalked over to Hermione and stared deeply into her eyes as if peering at her soul. Perhaps he was! Hermione lowered her gaze.

"What are you doing here?" He asked coldly.

All the students had turned, detecting the approaching drama.

"I'm in class, sir," said Hermione, confused. "Where else would I be?"

He didn't even think and what he said next settled into Hermione's chest like an illness, making her choke with hurt.

His thin lips curled up into a dangerous smirk. "In bed with your newest lover, perhaps?"

Tears sprang to her eyes, tears of hurt and surprise. She already had enough of this from rumors and Skeeter, but now her very own Professor? And who was he to chide her for showing affection when he had been the one to kiss her? Did this mean something more, or was he just being cruel?

She did not reply, only quietly grabbed her book bag and left without a word, though a muffled sob could be heard as she exited.

Ron stood up so quickly that he almost knocked over Harry, who was doing the same. "How _dare_ you-"

"I suggest you sit _now_ , Mr. Weasley, Potter, or I will take so many points from your house that the hourglass will be tipping."

Ron flushed and sat back down, but Harry ignored the Potions Master and slammed his hands down on their desk.

"You're just jealous because no one in their right mind would ever love a monster like you!" He scowled all the darker when Snape spun around. " _Sir._ " 

"100 points from Gryffindor and detention for three months," Snape snapped, his cheeks red with fury. "You are dismissed from my classroom!"

And Snape left quite like Hermione had; in a state of intense shame. 

* * *

There was tree in the courtyard. Not many spoke of it, for the great plant was rather unremarkable in appearance. It was a weeping willow and shared the same mother tree as the Whomping Willow. It had been carved with names of lovers, secrets and fears.

It was Hermione's favorite tree and it was the one she climbed into now. Nestled between two loving branches, she cried softly and hugged the trunk.

She had slept with Viktor, the night before. It had been fairly innocent; they had only gotten down to their underwear before stopping and the kisses had been chaste. Still, she had shared the bed of a man for the very first time, and it had been exhilarating. Now it only felt shameful.

There was a long suffering sigh and then, "Granger."

Her name was spoken with a hint of regret, and she glared down at the darkly clothed Professor. He was hunched, wrapped in his cloak as if cold and his hair scruffy like a raven with wet feathers.

"Fancy meeting you here," she hummed, crossing her ankles to conceal her pink lace panties and leaning against the tree. "What do you need, sir?"

His face revealed his surprise.

"You are not angry." He said it not like a question, but a fact. That was the Potions Master for you; always making statements.

Hermione pressed her cheek against the trunk of the tree.

"Not really," she sighed. "I'm just tired."

There was a silence then, too deep to penetrate by mere words. Hermione listened to the sap pumping through the tree and its heartbeat, and Severus listened to the static in his mind.

"What are you doing?" He wondered, walking forward and touching the tree himself, stroking the rough bark. "I should take points; I do not believe you should be up there."

He didn't though, and that spoke volumes.

"Well, I sing to it," said Hermione warmly, blushing a little when the Professor quirked an eyebrow. "I think it likes it, and doing so calms me when I'm upset."

Severus chuckled under his breath, though it sounded rusty, like a deaf man trying to speak. It almost sounded lonely.

"You should get down, before I give you detention."

"Fine," Hermione muttered. The girl placed her foot carefully on the branch below her, and the Professor took a step back to give her room.

She put her other shoe down and was just about to continue when the branch broke. It was sudden and very odd, but Hermione began to fall nonetheless. Snape saw and did not think. She landed hard in his arms. Her skirt fluttered, her hair became messy and the sweat that had beaded on her forehead when she had fallen flew up in the air like sparkling tears.

Both people were horrified, and Snape dumped her on the ground quite like he had that night. He seemed torn, and Hermione half wondered if he would kiss her again _. Do I want him to?_

What a foolish notion. He gave her a scathing look and glided away, a little flustered.


End file.
